


Stuck

by anythingpastorpresent



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Frottage, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 23:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17435483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingpastorpresent/pseuds/anythingpastorpresent
Summary: He shifts, then immediately regrets it when it just…adds friction. He can feel heat crawling up the back of his neck, prickling, except this time it isn't a sixth sense warning him of danger; it's just pure humiliation. And arousal, because, well. His body is pressed up against the body of the man who's been his hero as long as he can remember.





	Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> There's this thing called a "back button." If you don't like this ship, don't read this fic.

Peter is definitely not claustrophobic. He's not. Maybe, if he was in a situation reminiscent of having an entire building collapse on top of him, he'd be a little freaked out, but this is nothing like that, not really.

And yet.

His breathing is faster than normal, yes, and he feels kinda hot all over, but that's…that's not fear. Okay, maybe a little bit of fear. But definitely not panic.

Only there's something else, and the thought makes his skin flush and he has to make an effort to draw in a deep, shaky breath. He's not going to think about it. Thinking about it would only make the situation worse, and this situation does  _ not _ need to get worse, if it can get worse at all.

Of course, wondering if it  _ can _ get worse is bound to make it worse.

"Are you okay?"

Peter can feel the words as Tony says them, can feel the rumble through both their chests where they're pressed together, and he has to take a deep breath. "Um."

He shifts, then immediately regrets it when it just…adds friction. He can feel heat crawling up the back of his neck, prickling, except this time it isn't a sixth sense warning him of danger; it's just pure humiliation. And arousal, because, well. His body is pressed up against the body of the man who's been his hero as long as he can remember. He squeezes his eyes shut against the wetness he feels in them and thinks, at least it's dark, because Tony Stark seeing him cry like this would just be the fucking icing on the cake.

Then there are hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently. "Kid?" The concern he hears in Tony's voice makes him shiver, and he feels something warm curl in his belly and shoot through his groin. He bites down on his lip to keep from groaning out loud and keeps his chin tucked to his chest. "Are you alright? Are you claustrophobic?" Tony shifts then, like he's trying to get a better look at Peter's face, and the movement brings their hips closer together, and Peter wants to die when he can't stop a small whimper from slipping out.

"I…I'm f-" His eyes burn, and now there's a roaring sound in his ears. The. Worst. This is the  _ worst _ , it could not possibly get any worse than this-

"Peter?" Tony sounds kind of alarmed now, and, hey, he should say something, reassure Tony that he's not going to freak out from the lack of space, but  _ oh, no, I'm fine, Mr. Stark, it's just that I've had this stupid crush on you forever and now I'm probably about to come in my pants from rubbing up against you _ is  _ not _ something he ever wants to say to the man. Plus, he's not entirely sure about the not-freaking-out part.

Peter opens his mouth to say literally anything else, and bursts into tears instead.

It's actually kind of hard to breath when you're crying and your entire body is pressed up against someone else's in such a tiny space, and, oh, he's actually kind of lightheaded now as he mumbles, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark, I'm…I didn't…"

But there are hands rubbing up and down his arms, which feels kind of nice. "Hey, hey, hey," Tony says, "It's okay. Just breathe, Peter, you're okay. Shh."

"God, I didn't mean- Mr. Stark I'm so-"

Tony takes one of Peter's hands and moves it to his own chest, inhaling deeply. "Shh, Peter, you're fine. Just breathe with me. In. Out. Again." Peter does his best to copy Tony's breathing, and ignores the spike of arousal he feels when Tony says, "Good, that's good, Peter."

They just breathe for a little while longer, Tony still rubbing up and down Peter's arms, which he realizes actually are kind of cold, now that he thinks about it, but when the panic has subsided his attention is brought back to the thing that pushed him over the edge in the first place, which is that he's hard and there's no way that Tony doesn't feel it against his hip.

Tony's hands are warm and actually feel really good against Peter's skin, which is not helping the situation, but he doubts Tony realizes that. He buries his face in his hands, which happen to be against Tony's chest, and mumbles, "Please kill me now."

Tony's chest rumbles as he huffs out a laugh. "It's fine, kid, it's. It's not your fault." His hands stop suddenly, and his fingers tighten slightly where they're circled around Peter's biceps. "It's just your body's, uh, natural reaction to…stimulus." Tony sounds so calm and matter-of-fact about it, despite the slight hesitation, and Peter is simultaneously impressed and turned on by how Tony never seems to be fazed by anything; or, if he is, that he never shows it.

"Ughhhh." Peter doesn't lift his head. "It's so  _ not _ fine, Mr. St-I mean, Tony." Tony snorts at the slip, and Peter remembers being fresh out of a fight, Tony stepping out of the Iron Man suit with a big grin, looking sweaty and exhausted and  _ beautiful _ , and Peter had ripped his own mask off, grinned just as big, and said " _ that was so cool, Mr. Stark _ !" And Tony had just laughed and shook his head, and went " _ I think we've been in enough life-or-death situations together to be on a first name basis by now, Pete _ ," and Peter had flushed with happiness.

But now Tony is probably never going to be able to look at him again, much less invite him on missions and fight next to him, like an equal, or call him "Pete" with that teasing look in his eye, like Peter's actually someone he likes being around-

He doesn't even realize he's hyperventilating again until he feels callused hands gripping his cheeks and tilting his face up. "Hey.  _ Peter _ . Look at me.  _ Breathe _ ."

The thing is, they've been trying to get out of here for ages. Peter thought, if he could just get some leverage, he could probably get his hands and feet on the walls and be able to climb out, but then he'd started to move and realized just how  _ close _ they were, and his dick had twitched and it had all just been downhill from there.

Tony shifts, and Peter gasps at the friction it causes. He can feel his cheeks heat up, and he's once again thankful that there's barely any light in here, because he's probably red as a tomato, which is not an attractive look. Not that he's worried about trying to look attractive to Tony, as if  _ that _ would ever matter in a million years, but still.

He feels fingers run through his hair gently, and there's enough light that he can see Tony is peering at him inquisitively. Peter's still kind of gasping for air and he realizes that he's shaking, probably has been for the past few minutes. And then Tony goes, "Distraction time," and shifts his weight from one leg to the other like he's just getting more comfortable, and his knee is slotting between Peter's legs and moving forward, pushing his thigh right against Peter's crotch.

His hands have somehow clenched handfuls of Tony's shirt, and he stutters, "W-what are you…?"

Tony just cocks his head like it's no big deal, still stroking through Peter's hair. "I understand, Pete," and  _ oh, _ "this…it's fine. You just…do what you gotta do, okay? It's no big deal." Peter whimpers and his hips stutter forward reflexively, because  _ holy shit _ .

Then Tony lifts his thigh a bit, grinding it into Peter's dick, and Peter pretty much collapses against Tony's chest, gasping. He can't stop himself from thrusting his hips into Tony's, who actually moves his arms around Peter, and starts rubbing his hands up and down his back.

He tries to stay quiet, as if making any noise will remind Tony of exactly what is happening, but when he feels a hand cup the back of his neck, he can't hold back a whine. Tony chuckles and squeezes his neck gently, murmuring, "That's it, Pete," and Peter's done for.

His orgasm crashes over him and his senses blur, everything except for the points of connection between him and Tony disappearing. It could be seconds or hours later when he comes to, feeling worn out and electric and satisfied.

“There you go,” Tony murmurs, and Peter’s dick gives a feeble twitch at the gentleness in his voice. “Better?”

“Um. Y-yeah,” he stutters. Is that…? No. He can’t possibly be feeling what he thinks he’s feeling…

But Tony shifts, and there, Peter feels it again: Tony’s hard.

_ It’s just your body’s natural reaction to stimulus _ , Peter thinks, and then he tries to  _ stop _ thinking, because if he thinks about Tony Stark’s erection pressing into his hip, well, he’s a teenager. Getting hard thirty seconds after coming is a real possibility.

Tony, who Peter admires for his ability to act like an adult and ignore the awkwardness of being aroused from being pressed up against a teenager, pats Peter on the shoulder. “What do you say we try to get out of here now?” he says.

And it’s probably better if they do that sooner rather than later, Peter decides.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Stuck, Tony's Thoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436626) by [jf4m](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jf4m/pseuds/jf4m)




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